Disclaimer: I don't own DA:O or any of its characters.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in update! And I also apologize that this chapter is so long. I just didn't want to break it up at all.

Warning: This chapter contains elements of gore and sex. But not together at the same time, I promise. =P

14. Alistair and Clarissa

I'm standing over his body, chest heaving. Blood coats my armour…his blood. I'd once said that I wouldn't rest until I saw his head roll. Well, there it is, distinctly separate from his neck.

He deserves nothing less.

When Riordan had suggested that Loghain be made a Grey Warden, I was terrified that Clarissa would actually consider it. For one fleeting moment I could see myself walking out of the Landsmeet in a fit of rage because of Clarissa. I needn't have worried, however. Without hesitation she told Riordan that sparing Loghain was not an option. His blood would spill for his crimes. She then asked me to do the honours. As if I'd have it any other way.

Now Eamon is telling everyone that I'm going to be king. Wait, what?

"Sorry, I don't remember agreeing to that. When was that decided?" I ask, my eyes darting from Clarissa to Eamon.

"You see? He does not wish to claim any right to the throne, I shall continue on as queen!" Anora announces. Maker's breath, doesn't she ever tire from the sound of her own voice?

"I never said that!" I snap. "I just said that I never agreed to it."

"Clearly we need someone to make a decision. Warden, you should be the one to choose Ferelden's next ruler," Eamon says. My gaze snaps back over to Clarissa. She's chewing on her lower lip.

"I need to speak with Alistair first," she replies. She turns to me and whispers, "do you even want to be king?"

I sigh, "You know, at first I hated the thought of being king, but I've actually gotten used to the idea. Anora is too much like her father. She doesn't care about Ferelden, all she cares about is power. I may not know much about politics, but that's something I can learn. She can't suddenly learn to be a better person," I grumble.

Clarissa nods and then turns to Eamon. "I've made my decision." The room has gone silent. There's a first. Quiet among the nobility? Next thing you know Oghren will be giving lessons on proper etiquette. "Alistair will be king, and I shall rule by his side."

….

….

….

"Did I just hear that? Is this a dream? Because usually this is the part when I realize that I'm naked and everyone is staring at me," I glance around and realize that everyone is in fact staring at me. I look down to make sure I'm still fully suited up. Yep, armour still present and accounted for. Clarissa refuses to meet my gaze, which I find extremely frustrating. Eamon begins a speech about how Anora must relinquish all her rights as queen and swear fealty to me, which she refuses to do. Big surprise there.

"We cannot have civil war at a time like this!" Eamon argues. "We need to decide what to do with her." Ugh, politics. This is going to be awful. Already I'm regretting Clarissa's decision. Well, the king part anyway…that other thing she mentioned about us being together...

"Just lock her up in the tower for now. If I don't live through the battle, she can reclaim her place as queen. If I survive, we'll figure out what to do with her," I order.

"You would truly allow me to rule even after all of this?" Anora seems flabbergasted.

"I said if I don't survive. We can't very well leave Ferelden without a proper ruler, can we? The Blight is what's most important right now. Someone has to think of the country," I say.

"That's surprisingly sound judgment," she remarks.

"Yes well, don't go out telling everyone. I have a reputation to uphold," comes my rather caustic reply. I turn toward Clarissa. She's still facing the opposite direction, clearly avoiding me. As annoyed as I am with her, I still can't help but admire her unique beauty, even after her duel with Loghain. Covered in sweat, blood spatters marring her pale complexion, and her hair, which she had begun to pin up since it had grown out considerably, is in complete disarray. To many men she looks dirty. To many men she looks unkempt, unladylike, unpretty. To me, she looks radiant. I'll have to have a chat with her later about this "ruling beside me" business.

"So here's a funny story. A man suddenly becomes king and gets engaged all in one day, have you heard that one?" I ask upon entering the main den.

Clarissa is blushing furiously and giving me the most sheepish expression. "Are you angry?"

"No, not angry. I had come to terms with the king part. It was the second part I was surprised at. Are you…are you sure that's what you want?" I ask. I really hope she can't see the sweat that's broken out on my brow. I mean, it would make sense for her to want to be queen, it's just…I'd hoped she'd want to be with me…well for me. I'm half expecting her to reply that of course she wants to be the queen, what woman wouldn't? Again, I needn't have worried.

"I love you Alistair, of course I want to marry you," her cheeks take on an even brighter shade of red, if that's at all possible. She's suddenly become uncharacteristically self conscious, and her chin, which she normally holds high, has dropped to her chest. I remove one my gloves and cup her cheek, lifting her gaze to meet mine. I smile at her playfully.

"Well, that's a relief, saves me from having to ask. There is the issue of an heir…the people will want one of course, and I know that for someone with the taint conceiving children is difficult…and for two Wardens? I'm not even sure that's possible…" I furrow my brow, trying to think of a way around this problem when Clarissa's eyes brighten and she gives me the most devilish grin.

"Well, it certainly won't be for the lack of trying!" she says cheerfully. My heart melts for the millionth time. Maker, I'm such a fool in love.

"So what you're saying is…the one to strike the final blow…the one to kill the archdemon…dies?" I ask, my heart sinking. We're back at Redcliffe and after fending off a whole slew of darkspawn we've managed to get to the relative safety of the castle. That's when we hear that we'll have to turn around and head all the way back to Denerim, and that's when Riordan let's us know that he has official Grey Warden business to discuss.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Riordan replies. I resist the urge to punch him in the face. It's not his fault after all. Don't kill the messenger and all that.

"I'll be the one to strike the final blow," Clarissa states. My mouth hangs open. She can't be serious? I'm about to forbid her when Riordan steps in.

"It warms my heart to see you so full of courage, but you needn't make such a sacrifice at this point. I am the eldest Warden and therefore it is my place to take the final blow. Should I fail, however, it will be up to you two," he warns. "Now I think it's time that the two of you got some rest. You have a very daunting day ahead of you, and you'll need your sleep." As if we could sleep after an announcement like that. As I leave the room, I notice Morrigan skulking about Clarissa's bedchambers. She shoots me an icy glare, which I pointedly ignore. I wonder what she wants?

"Do not be alarmed, tis only I," she says as I enter my bedchambers. I'm not exactly alarmed, but I am a tad curious. "I have a plan, you see. A loop in your hole. I know what happens when the archdemon dies. I know that a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice might be you. I am offering a way out. A way out for all Grey Wardens, so that such a death can be avoided."

"And what kind of way out is this?" I ask wearily.

"A ritual performed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night. It is old magic, from before even the Circle of Magi. Some might even consider it blood magic, though I think you care little about that," she explains.

"Go on…" I have a feeling I'm really not going to like this.

"In order for this ritual to be performed, you must convince Alistair to lay with me, here, tonight. From this act a child will be conceived, bearing the taint. Then, when one of you makes the killing blow, the soul of the demon will seek out the child like a beacon. At this early stage the child will absorb the essence and survive, the archdemon is destroyed, and no Grey Warden need die as a result." She has taken a seat on the bed, and is looking up at me. She knows what I'm thinking. I have no problems with taking the final blow and making the sacrifice. That's not the issue here. My fear is that Alistair will be the one to die. This thought terrifies me, and it is this thought alone that drives me to accept her offer.

"I…I'm not sure if I can convince him…I will try," I reply.

It's an hour later, and Morrigan reappears, I've been sitting stock still on Alistair's bed. I was trying my damnedest not to imagine the kinds of things that Morrigan was doing with him. She places a hand on my shoulder and my muscles stiffen even further.

"Clarissa, I guarantee it is not as you imagine," she says softly. Softly? This is definitely not the Morrigan I've come to know. She turns me so that I am facing her. She takes a seat next to me on the bed. "Did you really think I'd ravage that moronic dimwit? Honestly Clarissa, what do you take me for? I cannot stand him in the least. Most importantly, you are like a sister to me, and I could not bear…" she sighs. I know she finds it extremely difficult to express her feelings about such things. "I asked him for his consent first. Which he very hesitantly gave. I then had him stand in one corner and…pleasure himself. I told him to think of you, and to let me know when he was about to climax. He must have been in a hurry, or you make him incredibly aroused, because within minutes he was at the moment. I know for a fact from your campsite sessions he can last longer, so I can only assume that he was beating himself raw to get it over with. The announcement came, and I cast a mind blast spell on him. I took the seed inside of myself, and left the idiot in your room."

I'm gaping at her now. "Wh-what? You mean you just left him in there? All stunned and naked and…oh dear." Morrigan is actually laughing. I'm not sure whether to slap her or join in. I'm not even sure what they did actually constitutes sex. "So…it wasn't all sweaty sex and orgasms?" She looks at me like I've grown a third head. "Okay, I get it. You think he's an idiot and would never lower yourself to such a thing if these weren't dire circumstances."

She reaches to her medicine pouch and extracts a small vial. "I want you to be able to sleep tonight. You need your rest. Take this, and go see Alistair. This may be your last night together. I suggest you make the most of it." She stays to make sure I take the sleeping draught and leaves. I follow soon after to see Alistair. As I stand in front of my bedroom door, the events leading up to this very moment play through my mind. The death of my family, the trip to Ostagar with Duncan, pretending to be a man, gathering an army, the death of Howe and Loghain, making Alistair a king…All of it seemed so surreal. I had many regrets, but one in particular rears its ugly head as I stand in front of my bedchamber door. Many would think it was the fact that I'd managed to convince Alistair to participate in a sex ritual with Morrigan, no matter how impersonal it had been. They would be wrong. Many would think it was the fact that I'd left my parents to die in Highever in order to follow Duncan. They'd be wrong too. What springs to mind at that precise moment is an image of pale blue eyes, beautiful red hair, long slender fingers and a soft, lilting Orlesian accent. When I'd told her that I was in love with Alistair, I had seen the heartbreak in her eyes. She tried to brush the moment aside as being awkward, but I knew better. I don't regret choosing Alistair, but I do regret the pain that I caused Leliana. I had almost lost all hope of remaining friends when one evening by the fire, I saw her giving me an impish grin. That was when she asked for details about my sex life with Alistair. I must have looked quite foolish with my mouth hanging open and my eyes bugged out, for she let out one of her characteristic peals of laughter. We curled up together by the fire and traded stories of our childhood, and our bond transcended any sexual union that I'd shared with her. I snap myself out of my reverie and open the door. I see Alistair sitting on the edge of the bed. He's in his small clothes and he's staring dazedly at the wall.

"Are you alright?" I ask tentatively. He looks at me and shakes his head.

"I can't even remember what happened. One minute I'm thinking about that time in the Brecilian Forest when you had your legs wrapped around my neck and how loud you were screaming my name, and the next…nothing," he scratches the back of his head. I wander over to the bed and climb behind him, running my fingers over the taut muscles in his shoulders.

"I remember that night," I murmur into his ear. "I still have the scar on my shoulder from where you bit me so savagely. I swear I thought you'd turned into one of those werewolves." He chuckles and reaches around, pulling me into his lap.

"No, I didn't turn into a werewolf, but I do think that I managed to get fleas from one of them," he jokes. As he cradles me in his arms, he begins to strip me out of my tunic. "You know, despite the fact that I've just been molested by an apostate, I feel strangely…frisky." His voice has taken on that throaty timbre that I love. He's managed to pull me out of my tunic and breeches. "It may be our last night together," he murmurs.

"Don't say that," I whisper. "You never know what might-Oh!" It's really hard to concentrate when a sexy ex-templar is nibbling on your collarbone and slowly making his way to your breasts.

He tugs down the strip of cloth that covers my bosom. "This thing is so silly," he muses. "What's the point of it? To keep me from getting my mouth fastened on what's underneath? I think you should just quit wearing the bloody thing." As if to prove a point he takes one of my breasts into his mouth and begins to suckle greedily. I let out a soft mewl and my head lolls back. One of his hands glides up my thigh. He moves my legs apart and pushes the fabric of my small clothes aside. One finger enters me easily while his thumb flicks and rubs my clitoris. My breath catches and I moan. He pulls his mouth away from my breast and grins at me. "I think someone is just as frisky as I am," he cocks an eyebrow and plunges a second finger into my wet slit.

"Blood of Andraste, Alistair! You'll be the death of me…" I groan. I whimper when he pulls his hand away. "You're a tease!" I throw a pout his way. He laughs and shifts me so that I'm lying on the bed fully. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch as he stands and hooks his thumbs into his own small clothes and pulls them down. He kicks them away and I'm quite pleased by the fact that he's already standing at full attention. He wastes no time as he descends on me, guiding himself into me in one swift thrust. I let out a loud cry, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist. His thrusts are painfully slow, and he's gazing down at me, gauging my every reaction. He's told me on more than one occasion that he loves to see the exact moment that I climax, and with him it happens quite frequently. When his hips make a circular motion I nearly bite clean through my bottom lip. My muscles tighten around his hardness and he lets loose a grunt. His pace begins to increase, his thrusts become more fervent. Each of his movements elicits a cry from my lips, and my fingernails rake down his back. I hear him whisper my name into my ear and his entire body stiffens as he spills himself into me. We are both spent, and I'm feeling slightly light headed, from both the love making, and no doubt the potion that Morrigan gave me. It isn't long before I'm nestled in his arms, deep in the spinning mists of the Fade.

I bring Alistair, Wynne and Shale to the final confrontation. I need both brute strength and healing magics if I'm to survive this battle. Each of my companions speak to me privately, and I can see in their eyes that they think this will be the last time that we see each other. I've just said my goodbyes to a tearful Leliana when Morrigan storms up to me.

"So this is it? After all that you are not taking me with you to the final battle?" she has her hands on her hips.

"In your delicate condition?" I joke.

She laughs, raising an eyebrow at me. "I trust you had a good night with Alistair? Otherwise you would be in a much surlier mood I suspect."

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." I elbow her playfully. "I need someone to stay back here that has some common sense. I also wouldn't want the archdemon to eat you before I get a chance to cut off his head. Now get to work before I tell Leliana about your fragile state. I'm sure she'd love to pester you about it," I smile at her.

"Hmph," she scoffs. "Tis not I who is in a fragile state," she says cryptically before turning to walk away. I shake my head. Morrigan will always be a mystery to me. But I have more important things to worry about. I have an archdemon to kill.

Alistair lays on the ground unconscious, Shale is tossing large boulders at the dragon. Wynne is leaning against her staff. I toss her a potent lyrium potion. "Please, revive Alistair…" my voice is much raspier than I'd expected. She shoots a glance toward the gaping wound in my left shoulder. I'm clutching it, trying to stop the bleeding. "I'll be fine," I growl. "Just heal Alistair, then deal with me." She nods and moves toward him. The dragon has little life left. It's time. I tamp down on the pain in my shoulder and let loose a bellow, running at the archdemon. I grab the first longsword I can find, which happens to be sticking out of a nearby genlock corpse. I feel Wynne's healing magic pour through me as I leap at the dragon and drag the sword through its neck. Its shriek reverberates through the air, but I pay it no mind. My blade slices through the archdemon's head. A beam of light shoots from the monster, blinding me. I hear the soldiers around me begin to cry out in victory, but all I can see is that beautiful light. It surrounds me, warms me. It makes me feel whole.

I must have blacked out, because the next thing I remember is Alistair carrying me away from the beast's corpse, and he's gazing down at me with a worried expression. I smile up at him. "We did it," I whisper. The serenity that fills me has yet to fade. Relief fills Alistair's eyes and he leans in to press his lips to mine. I feel his tears splash against my cheeks.

"Never scare me like that again," he mutters against my mouth. His forehead is pressed to mine.

"I won't," I whisper. "I promise."